


The Fool

by Cats_Current_Hyperfixation



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: (if I actually manage to write this long enough to qualify as such), Abusive Relationships, Asra (The Arcana) Route, Betrayal, But his route being released and Muriel's route has a lotta interesting plot info, Don't trust Lucio, Endgame relationship is Asra/Apprentice, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana) Route, Lucio is abusive, Multi, Muriel Route (The Arcana), Nonbinary Apprentice (The Arcana), Other, Partner Betrayal, Slow Burn, but there will be Lucio/Apprentice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-01-25 20:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cats_Current_Hyperfixation/pseuds/Cats_Current_Hyperfixation
Summary: The apprentice must watch over the shop when Asra goes on a journey, but they end up on a journey of their own.  Ghosts, adventures through magical realms, and betrayals await...(Inspired by the Lucio and Muriel routes, basically a combination of canon into a new route that explores just what Lucio's all about)
Relationships: Apprentice & Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Asra (The Arcana)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Before The Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> I intend for this to be a long story but I have ADHD and so this may end up abandoned before I finish it; I apologize in advance in case this happens.
> 
> !This story will explore emotionally abusive characters (*cough cough LUCIO*) so be warned of that beforehand.!

I absent-mindedly tap my feet against the floor, tapping out an off-beat rythm. My thoughts are wandering as I gaze out the window, half-watching the passers-by while also looking off to an unseen distance, daydreaming. The thought crosses my mind that it's around time when Asra should be returning, and I look forward to when he will- until my smile quickly shifts into a frown as I'm reminded that the whole reason he's been out all day is to make sure that he has food for his travels, and that I have food for staying here, at the shop.

The tapping sound of my shoes against the floor stops as I lean against the countertop with a sigh, bringing my gaze downwards as my vision focuses back to the reality in front of me. Nobody but me stands in the shop. I kick the side of the counter in frustration; frustration that I can't go with Asra and frustration that he's going in the first place. He's always going off places these days, never telling me where he leaves to-

I'm startled out of my thoughts as the jar nearby on the counter wobbles, realizing too late that it's awfully close to the edge. I desperately scramble to catch the tilting jar. But my flailing is to no avail and the jar falls past my fingertips. I wince, stumbling to the side, as it crashes to the floor with the sound of cracking ceramic. An explosion of powdered bat milk poofs from the jar that now spins on the floor as the lid rolls a few feet to the side. I inhale sharply through my teeth, cringing at the mess by my feet.

I lean down to inspect the damage. We'd been running low on powdered bat milk, so there's not too much of the white powder sprawled accross the floor. Just as well, though, because the jar is in pieces with only the lid remaining intact. I pick up the lid carefully, mentally chastizing myself for my clumsliness as I place it into the trash bin. For the shards of the jar, I figure it's best to avoid having Asra arrive to find me with cuts across my hands, so I use a levitation spell for them. Unfortunately, I'm not so confident in levitating particles, after an unfortunate accident that resulted in powdered herbs coating nearly every inch of the shop, taking days to properly cleanse. So, in old-fashioned style, I take the broom and dustpan with a sigh and get to cleaning up the mess that remains on the floor. As I begin to sweep, the familiar ringing of the bell hanging above the door catches my attention and I glance to the door, about to announce my welcomes to a customer when I realize who's just entered.

"Asra! Welcome back!" I exclaim. His hands occupied with his bag, stuffed to the brim with the day's findings, he shuts the door behind him with his foot.

"Rowan~! Wait till you see what the woods had to offer today!" he calls. "How'd everything go running the shop?" Immediately after he says that, he notices that I'm sweeping, and spots the powdery mess on the floor. He tilts an eyebrow upwards with a questioning look to me and I give him an embarassed smile.

"Things were going well... until I knocked the bat milk to the floor," I say with a sigh and a rueful smile. Asra chuckles, peering down at the mess at my feet, as he places his overfilled bag on the countertop.

"Ah, no worries. We were due to restock it anyway," he says, waving it off. "Anyway, what do you think of today's haul? Enough to last you while I'm gone?" As he speaks, Asra opens up the bag on the countertop, and several vegetables come tumbling out. He leans his elbows on the counter with his chin rested on his hands and looks over the abundance of edible plants sat before him, looking at me with delight as I take in the pile of goods on the counter.

"Oh! So much..! Honestly, Asra, this is more than I'll need, even with you taking your portion along on your journey," I say, staring at the quantity of the mushrooms, fruits, vegetables, and roots that lay on the countertop as well as in his bag. Asra shrugs in a nonchalant manner, smiling.

"I thought it'd be better to have plenty. After all, I don't want to leave you with nothing to eat but pumpkin bread," he says.

I nod, but for some reason I can't understand, the thought of Asra leaving tonight leaves me with an ache in my chest. I turn back to sweeping up the last remnants of bat milk in an attempt to distract myself. From the other side of the countertop, Asra searches through his assorted finds from the forest, seeming to look for something specific. With a grin, he picks out an amber-colored berry from the pile.

"The goldenberry bushes have started to ripen," he says with excitement as he presents the berry to me, his violet eyes twinkling in triumph at my expression of joy. He offers me the goldenberry, held loosely between his fingertips. I stand still for a moment, glancing between the broom in my hands and the berry, attempting to calculate some way to take the berry without dropping anything. Unable to figure out a more dignified way, I give in and tilt my head towards the goldenberry between Asra's fingers and he slips the berry into my mouth.

I chew the fruit softly, savoring the juicy sweetness, until I look up to see Asra smiling warmly at my delight. He hides a soft chuckle behind his hand, and I glance aside, feeling my face flush. "I made sure to grab plenty of goldberries; I know how much you love them," he says, offering another berry towards me. This time, I decide to just set the broom aside in order to take the berry from his hand, the work almost done anyway.

"Thank you," I say with a smile and bite into the berry. Asra picks out a goldenberry for himself and pops it into his mouth. He then resumes to sorting the fruits, vegetables, mushrooms, and roots from the bag. As I watch him, I'm once again left with the same feeling of sadness from earlier. A whole wave of mixed emotions swirls in my mind, with no sense of what they even are or why they're suddenly hitting me. All I know is that I don't want Asra to leave. I just want to join him on his mysterious journey when he leaves.

I just want to be with him, to not be apart from his warm, familiar energy. But I say nothing. Time and time again, I've begged to be allowed to go along with Asra on his journeys, and every time he tells me it's too dangerous, too far, too difficult for me. He never even tells me where he goes when he leaves like this. At this point, I've just learned not to even ask anymore.

I let the sadness and aching settle down into a dull, heavy feeling at the bottom of my heart and try to ignore it. Putting a smile on my face, I discard of the powdered bat milk in the dustpan and set forth to helping Asra sort through his findings.  
************************************************************************************


	2. A Melancholy Departure and an Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay yeah this chapter is basically continued prologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time with this chapter; still feel like it's a bit slow, but I figured I should just post it at this point so I can work on more of the story instead of prolonging the Struggling

That night, I watch Asra as he goes to and forth throughout the shop, gathering the final things for his journey. His bags are close to fully packed now; soon he'll be on his way. On his way to somewhere he won't tell me about... gone for who knows how long... But I know better than to try to get Asra to tell me anything about it. He rarely answers my questions, skilled at twisting the conversation to a different topic, forever mysterious. 

"Must you leave tonight?" I ask Asra. My voice comes out quieter than I meant it to, but Asra pauses to look at me.

"It's the dead of a moonless night. Just the right time for beginning a journey," he says with a smile, his eyes twinkling in the low lamplight of the shop. I try to force myself not to let out a sigh, biting my lip to stop it from trembling a bit. I wish Asra could just stay here, at the shop. He's left on many journeys like this before, I know I should be used to it by now. I mean, I was starting to hope maybe that he'd let me come along on the next one- but, well. I knew better than that.

Asra seems to notice my disappointment, giving me a reassuring smile. "I have something for you, Rowan," he says, reaching into his pocket. "Something to play around with while I'm gone, keep you busy."

A gift? That's unusual for Asra; he generally tries to make his exits unceremonious. I watch with interest as he brings something from his pocket and holds it out to me. I look at the object in his hands incredulously, looking back to Asra in befuddlement. 

"Your- your tarot deck?" I ask, confused. Asra's tarot cards are the last thing I'd expect him to give me. The deck is Asra's own creation, imbued with great power. I don't know how long he's had them, but for all of my life- that I can remember, at least- he's always kept his tarot deck with him. For him to give it away... to me..?

"Y-you think I'm ready, Master?" I ask. Asra flushes red at the last word, looking away.

"You're still calling me that... You really don't need to," Asra says, sounding somewhat embarrassed. He shakes his head, then meets my gaze again.  
"Rowan, you've made incredible progress with your magic. And yet, you still won't let go of your doubts." Asra places the deck of cards in my hands. "You know I can't answer your question for you. Do you think you're ready?"

I don't know how to answer him, frozen with uncertainty. But with the cards in my hands, I can feel their whispers hum in the back of my mind. They speak in no human tongue, but I can understand what they say nonetheless. And I know the answer.  
"Why don't we ask the cards?" I say. Asra flashes me a grin.

"Excellent suggestion." He gestures to the back room, and I make my way to the sheer curtains that enclose the reading room, Asra close behind me.

In the backroom, incense burns into swirling aromatic smoke. I can feel the slight buzz of magic hanging in the curls of smoke that dissipate upwards. A few rays of starlight filter through the curtains of the window, visible in the hazy air. A moonless night, yet still the sky casts light from amidst the dark expanse above...

"Well. Let's begin, shall we?" Asra speaks. He's sat down across from me at the table, watching me with interest. I take a deep breath, and my hands begin to shuffle the deck of cards almost automatically. Asra's gaze follows the cards as they slip through my fingers. The cards seem to fall into place on the table more of their own volition than mine.

My own hand seems to know exactly which card to flip over. Asra leans close as he watches, with an expectant look, as I turn over the card. It looks up from the table with a familiar, owl-like face.

"...The High Priestess," I say. Asra nods.

"Yes. And what is she telling you? Is she speaking to you now?" Asra asks. I close my eyes and focus, letting the words of the High Priestess form in my mind. It comes more easily than normal, with an unusual sense of clarity.

"You've forsaken her." In her time of need. Forsaken, ignored, let down. 

"I have?" Asra asks, confused. I open my eyes and look directly at him. His brow is furrowed, and he glances at the card of the High Priestess as her voice hums through my mind.

"Yes. You have pushed her away, and buried her voice." Denied, silenced, forgotten... Asra frowns but remains silent, waiting for me to continue. "She calls out, but you won't listen." Wandering, lost, calling for you. Why don't you hear her calling for you?  
"Master, if you ignore her..."

Before Asra can say anything, a sharp knock startles the both of us. The High Priestess' voice silences abruptly, the sudden absence of the Arcana in my mind leaving me with a strange feeling.

"A customer? At this hour? Mm, did we forget to put out the lantern again?" Asra muses. I force myself to pay attention to his words, to shake off the images still swirling in my mind. "Ah, just as well. I really can't stay any longer, I'm afraid," Asra says, standing up. He offers me his hand, helping me up. I feel strangely dizzy, but Asra doesn't seem to notice. He heads back to the shop proper, the gauzy, colorful curtains swishing through the air behind him.

I pause, looking back down at the table where the tarot cards lay. The High Priestess stares at me in silence. I pick up her card, but her message has already been given, and so she says nothing more. With a sigh, I return the loose cards to the deck and place it in my pocket. I push the curtains aside and follow Asra back into the shop.

He's standing next to the counter, hoisting his now-packed bags onto his shoulder. As he wraps his scarf around himself, I'm still trying to process the High Priestess' message. She had been calling out to Asra... why hasn't he heard her? I feel no more sure of whether or not I'm prepared for any of this than before I asked the cards- all I am is more confused. As he finishes adjusting his scarf, Asra turns to me.

"Well, then... take care of yourself, Rowan," he says with a bittersweet smile. There's some hesitant look in his eyes; like he's trying to decide if he should say something else. Asra doesn't move for a moment, standing there with his hand on my shoulder. But then he seems to discard whatever it was he was thinking of and drops his hand from my shoulder to grab his hat from the counter, placing it on his head. He tilts the feathered hat at me with a smile.

"Until we meet again," he says. And with that, he parts through the curtains soundlessly and slips out through the back door.

I stand in place for a moment, unsure what to do, until a loud knock from the shop door startles me. I had momentarily forgotten about the mysterious visitor; one would normally have expected them to have given up by now, considering the hour and lack of response.

But they knock yet again, rough and hurried and sounding as if whoever it is is growing impatient. It may be the middle of the night, long past when we were supposed to close up shop, but I don't want to turn away a customer... and I'm curious to know why someone would be in such a hurry that they couldn't wait until morning. So I head over to the heavy wooden door of the shop, undoing the lock. The wood groans as I open the door, the normally-quite sound sharp against the silence of the night.

Outside, the streets are dark and empty, few people up and about so late. Except for the mysterious stranger standing at the doorstep, tall and slender, face hidden behind a shawl and the shadows. I stand to the side so they can enter. The mysterious visitor steps quickly into the shop, their movements elegant. I shut the door behind them and try to get a good look now that they're in the light.

The flowing fabric of their clothes is a light lilac hue, and the cloth shines like silk. The outfit is clearly quite fine, and quite expensive. I'm trying to figure out why the specific purple shade of their outfit seems so familiar to me when the visitor turns to face me. The deep purple shawl around their head still obscures their face, but they reach up manicured hands to unwind it as they begin to speak.

"Forgive me for the hour... but I refuse to suffer another sleepless night," the stranger says. Their voice is smooth and carefully enunciated, as refined as their outfit. And as they speak and smooth out their hair, I suddenly realize who they are with an unintentional gasp. There's no mistaking it, but... The- The Countess Nadia? Here, in my shop? In the dead of night, no less? I can't help but gawk, staring at her for a few seconds, until she speaks again.

"Please, you must read the cards for me," she implores, her elegant voice laced with distress. I stand in place, frozen with uncertainty, questioning why in the world the Countess is here before me, in my shop. I feel suddenly overwhelmed as I realize that Asra isn't here to help me figure out what to do. What to say, how to act-

But then the cards in my pocket hum in the back of my mind, and amid my circling thoughts, a strange sensation passes over me as the uncertainty is silenced. All of my doubts dissipate.

"You've come to the right place," I say. My words are filled with an assurance that seems to enter my voice out of nowhere, confidence working itself into my words. But the tone seems to reassure the Countess, at least. She gives me a nod.

"So I'm told. Your reputation precedes you, magician... Beggars and nobles alike, the people of this city whisper your name in wonder. Though... in my dream, you were... different..." The Countess trails off, her gaze wandering as she inspects me, and I suddenly feel quite exposed underneath her scrutiny. But then she straightens up. "No matter. I come with a proposal," she says.

Dream? How would the Countess know of me, from a dream? "...'In your dream'? What do you mean by that?" I ask. The Countess closes her eyes, a look of pain crossing her face.

"An... unwelcome ability I have come to possess. My dreams are haunted by visions, of a future waiting to unfold." Disdain crosses her features, and when she continues, her voice is serious and heavy. "But the future I saw this time, the one that brought me here to you... It is one that I will not allow to pass."

"What proposal do you speak of?" I ask, shifting under her gaze. She smiles, elegant and poised.

"Come to the Palace, and be my guest for a short while. You will be afforded every luxury, of course. I ask only that you bring your skill... and the Arcana," she declares. I suddenly feel the weight of the cards in my pocket, as the cards seem to whisper at the edge of my consciousness. She looks me in the eye. "So. Do you accept my proposal?" she asks. I don't hesitate before I answer.

"Yes."


End file.
